


i've kissed you before (but i didn't do it right)

by xlightless



Series: the fear of falling apart [3]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlightless/pseuds/xlightless
Summary: On the first sunny day in months, Himchan’s heart shatters into a million pieces. Except, it doesn’t feel like a shattering. Certainly not like a clean break, but more like a swift blow to the chest, knocking him senseless and straight into shock.





	i've kissed you before (but i didn't do it right)

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i thought i was done with this au, but i like seeing himdae suffer emotionally i guess
> 
> brought to you by: that one mitski song pink in the night and me projecting my life into fic (when am i not doing that lately lmao)

Himchan wakes up to an empty bed and a note where Daehyun is supposed to be. An oppressive weight sits in Himchan’s chest as he picks up the note and unfolds it. He saw this coming, but the reality of it comes crashing down like a devastating meteor shower, wrecking everything surrounding him. He reads the note, trying to parse the meaning behind it. And when he finally does––

On the first sunny day in months, Himchan’s heart shatters into a million pieces. Except, it doesn’t feel like a shattering. Certainly not like a clean break, but more like a swift blow to the chest, knocking him senseless and straight into shock.

Himchan falls back into the sheets, the hand holding the note falling open beside him. He can hear birds outside chirping and the steady stream of traffic on the streets. Normally, he’d bask in the tranquility. There’s nothing tranquil about this quiet morning. He’s silent and subdued, the buzzing silence unfamiliar where Daehyun’s laughter once echoed. This is the wreckage of a head-on collision, casualty: Kim Himchan. There’s nothing tranquil about him when he finally breaks, eyes closed, as the tears finally fall. He brings his hands up to his eyes as soft sobs escape his lips.

He knew they weren’t going to last, but that doesn’t mean he won’t miss Daehyun’s warmth.

//

“You’re my new muse,” Daehyun said one evening as he photographed Himchan sitting on a swing set in a nearby park.

“Oh, really?” Himchan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who was the one before me?”

“A stray cat, but I don’t think it liked me very much,” Daehyun replied, and Himchan smiled at the ground, kicking at the dirt.

Daehyun sat down in the swing beside Himchan. Their next moments were silent except for the creak of the swings. They sat there until the sun completely disappeared and stars began dotting the indigo sky. The streetlights flickered on, engulfing them in a dim yellow light. Daehyun looked up at the stars, his eyes suddenly faraway. And Himchan knew that look. He’d seen it before, but he also knew that the moment he brought it up, Daehyun would simply smile and deny anything. Himchan had learned not to say anything when he saw that look in Daehyun’s eyes.

“You know,” Daehyun said, almost a whisper carried away in the breeze. “The stars here look the same as the ones back in the countryside in South Korea. Not as bright, but still the same.”

“Dae.” Himchan noticed the way Daehyun stiffened at the name. There was a reason Himchan rarely used that nickname. Someone else said that name with the same tone–– Someone Daehyun still thought about.

“Yeah?” Daehyun asked, gaze still focused on the sky.

Himchan didn’t know what else to do except grab onto Daehyun’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Daehyun used his free hand to grab his camera and take another picture of Himchan.

And Himchan knew this was Daehyun’s way of distancing himself. Again.

“Are you going to be bringing that into the bedroom tonight?” Himchan asked with a mischievous smile.

Daehyun let go of Himchan’s hand, gripping the chains of the swing as he tilted his head back in a laugh. “Maybe. Sounds like it could be fun.”

“I’m your muse, aren’t I?” Himchan asked, but he hated the way his stomach churned nervously.

//

Himchan’s apartment doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s suddenly too dark and too cold to live in now. In the middle of summer, his own bedroom feels colder than a winter night. Not when he used to feel so warm with Daehyun laying beside him, Daehyun’s touch beneath him, Daehyun’s heat engulfed around him. There are lingering memories of Daehyun imprinted inside Himchan’s apartment like stubborn afterimages that refuse to fade away. He can’t even bring himself to clean it all up. A tiny part of him still wants to desperately hope against all odds that Daehyun will return to him. The void that Daehyun left encompasses the entire apartment, manifesting itself in Himchan’s apathy. The restaurant just barely begins to feel more like a home than his tiny apartment, but that’s only because his work keeps his mind off the bloated emptiness that infests his mind.

Himchan sorts through the pile of photos he’s collected with Daehyun over the course of their relationship. Some of them are developed, and some are on instant film from Daehyun’s old Polaroid camera. He flips the shoebox upside down, letting the photos scatter and flutter across the floor. He picks up each photo, quietly admiring it before putting it back in the box one by one. He feels tears begin to prick his eyes and he quickly wipes them away before they fall.

“This is fucking stupid,” Himchan mutters before cramming the rest of the photos back into the box.

Once the box is closed again, he stands up with a sigh, carries the box to the recycling bin, and drops it in. He stares at the box, at Daehyun’s stupid handwriting in Sharpie, and bites his lip. He lifts the box out of the bin and returns it to its place on the top of his closet.

Himchan doesn’t hate Daehyun. Really. He doesn’t. He never did.

But when Daehyun distanced himself with a nervous smile and a shaky laugh, Himchan didn’t know what to think. Every time Himchan tried to reach out to Daehyun, he curled back into himself, keeping himself just at an arm’s length away. Himchan didn’t hate Daehyun, but when Daehyun seemed to constantly have something––some _one_ ––on his mind, Himchan hated the way Daehyun tried to hide it with the same nervous smile and a shaky laugh.

But would Himchan bite the inside of his cheek and kiss the side of Daehyun’s mouth. And maybe that’s what Himchan hated about himself.

Himchan sits on the side of his bed, burying his head in his hands, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes before he can even feel the tears sting his eyes. He tries to calm his breaths, his racing heartbeat, his trembling hands–– But nothing works. He still feels the tears fall past his hands despite his efforts.

There are times where he replays scenes in his mind, rewinding through his memory like a pitiful movie. He asks himself if he could have done something differently. Maybe if he didn’t press so hard. Maybe if he wasn’t so jealous. Maybe if he was able to control the angry flames flicking at his heart a little better. Maybe if––

Himchan tries to forget his last fight with Daehyun, tries to shove it deep into the folds of his memory until it blurs out, but it plays in his mind in perfect clarity. But no matter how hard he tries, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the shouts and desperate tears.

//

Himchan found out, very early on, that Daehyun threw his entire being into what he did.

When he laughed, when he worked, when he kissed. It showed in everything he did.

Himchan realized, too late, that Daehyun threw his entire being into what he did––except loving Himchan back.

For all the times Daehyun had accidentally said _Youngjae_ , Himchan swallowed the bile that grew sour in the back of his throat.

It was a Saturday afternoon when he refused to swallow the growing anger inside of him.

“Who’s Youngjae?” Himchan asked. He tried not to sound too accusatory, but it was hard when he’d been putting up with this.

Himchan hated to see the panic in Daehyun’s eyes when they locked.

“He’s…no one,” Daehyun replied, quiet and unsure.

“Then, why do I keep hearing you say his name?” Himchan asked. He hated to see the way Daehyun curled in on himself, but he was tired and he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to put up with this. “Daehyun, please, just tell me the truth.”

Daehyun bit his bottom lip, looking down into his lap. “He’s not important. Really.”

“Why are you always doing this?” Himchan asked. He shifted his body to fully face Daehyun, but Daehyun only slumped his shoulders even more. “Every time I try to ask you what’s on your mind, you always try to change the subject. This Youngjae is obviously important to you, so…” He sighed. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Daehyun frowned before facing Himchan, the fury igniting bright in his eyes as he shot back, “Himchan, it’s in my past. It’s my business, not yours.”

And Himchan tried to ignore the way those words stung deep in his core. How could Daehyun say that? How could he not see the way his actions are affecting Daehyun?

“What do you _mean_ , it’s not my business?” Himchan could feel his own anger bubbling up inside of him, burning him up from the inside out. “How do you expect this relationship to last if you think this isn’t affecting me either?!”

“How?! Don’t you trust me?!” Daehyun exclaimed, rising to his feet and looking down on Himchan. “Don’t you think I care about you?!”

Himchan stood as well, leveling himself with Daehyun. “Not when this feels like a summer fling that lasted too long!”

Daehyun’s hands curled into trembling fists at his sides. “It’s not my fault you get jealous so easily.”

Daehyun would often say things he didn’t mean. Words spilled out of his mouth before he could fully complete his thoughts and consider the consequences. Himchan knew better than to let the words get under his skin, but this had gone on for too long and he was getting tired of the bullshit.

Himchan grit his teeth. He could feel the unshed tears stinging his eyes, the emotion burning through his throat.He wasn’t a violent person, but the first time he punched Daehyun, they were both too shocked to speak. Himchan saw red. He didn’t see anything, didn’t _feel_ anything. When his fist connected with soft flesh and hard bone, he felt like he was the one who’d been hit, but he was too caught up in the anger blinding him to fully realize.

“ _Is that what you tell me when you’re the one in love with someone else?! What the hell am I to you then?!”_ Himchan exclaimed in English, unable to switch back into Korean.

Himchan blinked, and when he came to his senses, he saw Daehyun staring at him, round eyes impossibly wide.Thick blood ran down Daehyun’s nose and dripped onto the hardwood floor. Daehyun dipped his head, pinching his nose and avoiding Himchan’s eyes.

When Daehyun spoke, his voice was as thick as the blood dripping from his nose. “I… I don’t know. I’m… I-I’m sorry.” He rushed out of the living room and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Himchan stared at the red drops on the floor. He heard muffled sobs from the bathroom.

The silence that rang throughout the apartment buzzed in Himchan’s ears, and he looked at the back of his hand, the red blooming at his knuckles as blood rushed beneath his skin. He felt his anger shrivel up in his stomach, souring into a bitter regret. He walked towards the bathroom, and knocked on the door softly.

“Daehyun?” Himchan asked. He could hear the sink running. “Daehyun, can you open the door?”

Daehyun didn’t respond. The sink was still running.

“Hey… I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have done that.” Himchan leaned his forehead against the door, the wood cold against the heat rushing through his veins. “I’m so sorry.”

The silence that stretched on was excruciating, and Himchan was about to walk away when the door swung open. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide. Daehyun faced him, wad of toilet paper pressed against his nose, dotted red with blood in various spots.

“I’m sorry, too,” Daehyun said, voice muffled behind the toilet paper. He sniffed, wiping his nose before throwing the wad into the trash. “I shouldn’t…have said that.”

Himchan saw the way Daehyun’s eyes were swollen and rimmed red. He saw the way Daehyun avoided looking directly at him. He hated the way his heart pulled towards Daehyun like a magnet he couldn’t stop. “Come here.”

Daehyun didn’t even hesitate to step into Himchan’s arms, burying his face into the crook of Himchan’s shoulder. An uncertainty had settled deep in Himchan, long before…this, but that wasn’t going to stop him from clinging onto what they had left.

//

Himchan moves on. Eventually. Two years after, he begins to feel less like an empty shell of himself and more like a whole person.

Though, there are still nights where the ghost of Daehyun’s touch haunts him at night. There are still nights where he closes his eyes and finds Daehyun’s staring back at him. Daehyun continues to linger in Himchan’s life, stubborn just like him.

Two years after, Himchan travels to Seoul to open a branch for his restaurant. Two years after, Himchan happens to pass by Daehyun’s exhibit––like Fate herself is playing a cruel trick on the both of them. Two years after, Himchan walks into the exhibit despite himself. He sees these images of himself, all these younger reflections of himself, and he can’t help but stare in awe. Is this what he looked like through Daehyun’s eyes?

Himchan finds Daehyun near the back. He looks different––he’s blond now, for starters––but the photograph he’s standing in front of a photograph is a familiar scene. It’s the view from the balcony of his old apartment. He thinks he’s ready to see Daehyun again, but bathed in the warm gallery lights, Himchan can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. He clenches his hands into tight fists to try to get them to stop trembling. His anxiety shoots cold fear through his veins, paralyzing him. He takes a deep breath, then a step forward. And another, and again, until he stands beside Daehyun. His eyes are closed, so Himchan steps towards the photo to examine it closer. He catches sight of the placard beside the photograph, and can’t help the small nostalgic smile from forming.

“ _Home for Now_. London, May 2015,” Himchan reads aloud. “I thought I recognized this.” He turns around, still smiling, but it almost falters when he finally looks at Daehyun. He thought he’d be okay, but suddenly, it feels like no time has passed between them.

“Himchan,” Daehyun whispers, his voice almost reverent.

And in that instant, Himchan wants to try again. Maybe they weren’t right for each other two years ago, but maybe now–– Maybe now, they can try again. Is that too much to ask?

“You went blond. It looks good,” Himchan says, if only to distract himself from the way his heart is crashing constantly against his ribcage. As if on instinct, he almost runs his hands through Daehyun’s hair, but he catches himself at just the last moment.

Daehyun looks like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out of his mouth.

So Himchan continues. “You know, I had a lot of time to think while you were gone. I never got to say goodbye to you.”

The emotion that sweeps over Daehyun’s face looks like something close to devastation, if the way his eyes threaten to well with tears, and Himchan just wants to bring Daehyun into his arms, feel that familiar warmth seep into the deepest parts of his body, but they’re practically strangers again. No matter how much Himchan missed Daehyun, there was no use in wishing for things to go back to the way they were.

“It’s a little too late now, though, isn’t it? I think…we’ve changed too much for goodbyes.” Himchan glances down at his feet, then back up at Daehyun, waiting for a response. There are few things he’s hesitant about, and this is one of them.

“What?” Daehyun’s voice shakes as he speaks, barely above a whisper.

“Reintroductions,” Himchan replies, hopeful as he holds his hand out. “Kim Himchan.”

Daehyun looks at Himchan’s hand, then back into his eyes before letting out a laugh, half-manic, half-relieved, with a hand clutching his chest. He takes Himchan’s hand, and it trembles just slightly as Himchan squeezes.

“Jung Daehyun.”

Humans are, and will remain, selfish creatures.

//

“Your back is still sensitive,” Himchan comments, running his fingertips between Daehyun’s shoulder blades down to the dip of his lower back.

Daehyun hums into the pillow, arms wrapping tighter around it like a vice. He shivers under Himchan’s touch, a breathless moan escaping his lips. “It’s…been a while.”

Himchan presses a kiss against Daehyun’s shoulder, running his hands along Daehyun’s sides as he thrusts in shallowly. Daehyun lets out a gasp, his muscles coiled tight against Himchan. He wants to retrace every curve of Daehyun’s body so he finally commit it all to memory. He wants to connect the constellations that mark Daehyun’s skin in freckles and scars. He wants to feel Daehyun’s warmth pressed against him in a bubble where time doesn’t feel real.

Because nothing hurt more than dreaming of being enveloped in Daehyun, feeling the smooth brush of his fingertips against him, only to wake up to an empty bed.

“Turn over, baby,” Himchan whispers, a quiet rasp in the darkness of the bedroom.

Daehyun turns onto his back, wrapping his arms around Himchan’s neck to bring him closer. His eyebrows furrow and his eyes screw shut as Himchan slides back into him. He thrusts inside slowly, reveling in the gasps that spill out of Daehyun’s mouth. His breaths are hot against Himchan’s nape, his nails embedding tiny crescent moons into Himchan’s back.

“Harder,” Daehyun moans, arching his back into Himchan.

And Himchan just wants this to last because he knows, come morning, they’ll realize the mistakes of what they’ve done, and he doesn’t want to. Not yet.

//

“Himchan!”

Daehyun stops in front of Himchan, breathless, his hair a mess, his clothes wrinkled. He looks like he just rolled out of bed. Himchan catches his note gripped in Daehyun’s hand.

“Yes?” Himchan asks, tilting his head.

Daehyun is still trying to catch his breath, He straightens his back, fully facing Himchan. “What you said yesterday. About us being different now. Did you mean it?”

“Yes?” Himchan doesn’t know how else to respond, so he waits for Daehyun to continue.

Daehyun gulps, and Himchan follows the movement (he can see the beginnings of a hickey forming just beneath the collar of his shirt). Daehyun takes a deep breath, the resolve evident in his eyes. “I want to say I’m sorry. Truly. And I know that doesn’t excuse every shitty thing I did two years ago, but…” He pauses, chewing on his bottom lip for a worrisome moment. “Is it okay if we try this again?”

And Himchan stares into their future with a trembling uncertainty, stuck at a crossroads.

Himchan takes Daehyun’s free hand in his own, feeling the racing heartbeat beneath the thin skin of Daehyun’s wrist. He looks up into Daehyun’s wide eyes, and smiles, albeit a little cautiously.

From here, where do they go? What will they do? Maybe they can carve a path for themselves this time. Maybe there’s a future where they belong.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit my [tumblr](http://www.guernica-flow.tumblr.com) if you wanna yell with me about b.a.p


End file.
